To Coexist
by FantomBlack
Summary: Bound to him by some divine force or careless mistake, he would risk no hurt to the creature at his side. She was a part of his blood now - a bond that ran much deeper than the mark of the moon on her face.
1. Chapter 1

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**SUMMARY:** The last thing Kagome Higurashi had expected was to fall into the old well at her shrine and wake up 500 years in the past. An accident makes her a witness to a terrible tragedy, and sets in motion events that will change her life forever. Unknowingly, she brings forth the Shikon Jewel – embedded in her body – through the well. Her Jewel reacts to the Jewel in the Feudal Era in a violent explosion, and one disappears while the other breaks into thousands of shards that will be sought by demons all over Japan.

Found half-dead in the middle of the forest by the Lord of the Western Lands, Kagome realizes that her grandfather's fantasies of demons and spirits were more than real. Now trapped in a war between two brothers and power-hungry demon named Naraku, Kagome is the only one who can piece she Jewel back together and end the war once and for all…

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**To Coexist  
Chapter 1 – The Well House**

Kagome Higurashi, shrine maiden and hard working, full time college student, awoke to face blinding rays of sunlight with a groan her grandfather would have sworn was demonic. The pain pounding at her temples was impossible to ignore, and her hand instinctively flew up to try and somehow dull it. Her eyes resisted her attempts to open them for a while, and when she finally won over them, she wished she hadn't. Wincing in agony, she moved herself into a sitting position on the ground and waited for her pupils to adjust.

_Strange…since when was it so bright in the well house?_

Vaguely, she remembered her that she had spent the early morning helping out her grandfather at the shrine souvenir booth. To her frustration, he had asked her to wear the traditional miko uniform of white and red. Although the clothes were very comfortable to move around in, she thought it was impractical to wear something so warm when the days were so impossibly hot. Her grandfather had just shrugged off her suggestion and told her that she shouldn't deny such a strong part of her heritage. Having no patience to try and argue with him, she had simply done as he asked.

It was after several hours of boredom from the lack of customers that her mother had asked her to do some spring cleaning in the well house. She had sworn that the dust on the well had piled up so much that it had turned into a solid mass. Of course, Kagome had always known not to trust her mother's definition of "clean". That status usually entailed the words "sparkling" and "perfection". Although she wasn't fond of messes and was considered to be obsessed with hygiene, she was not one to spend hours upon hours cleaning something to a shining state of perfection. Yet, for some reason, her mother had been adamant that she take care of the well house this time. After a long and tiring semester, Kagome had been reluctant to waste the first day of her summer vacation doing manual labor. But something, perhaps the way her mother had looked so very tired, had convinced her to do just that. It had taken nearly all day to get the area around the well cleaned. Her fat cat, Buyo, had come in at some point, and she had taken a short break to cuddle with him. Thinking back to it now, the whole incident had happened unexpectedly, as most accidents do.

The well house had been eerily silent all day, but she hadn't really noticed until that moment. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up when Buyo started up and jumped onto the rim of the well, his hair puffing up. He hissed, something that the animal had rarely done. The creature was simply too lazy. The moaning of a rather chilly breeze squeezing through the sliding door only added to the quickly darkening mood. The flame in her lantern went out. When something knocked against the wall of the well house, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

_Kagome…you're being ridiculous…_she had told herself. Shaking her broken light source, she blew a stray hair out of her face.

"That's the last time I use something like this…"

And then Buyo jumped into the well.

She had no choice. When she heard a yowling from the base of the deep abyss, she forced herself to gather her wits and let out a breath of frustration. Silly creature. Remembering that her grandfather had mentioned that the well had been used for generations as a makeshift dumpster for youkai remains, Kagome's agitation grew. Then again, her grandfather had said many things about this well – none of them believable. He had also mentioned that there was a ladder somewhere. Groping around in the darkness, her fingers connected with something cold. Putting her apprehensions aside when she heard another plea from Buyo, she scolded herself for being a coward and placed a foot over the rim.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

The mewling continued, and Kagome was reassured. If no monster had chosen to eat her overweight cat by now, then there was nothing she had to be concerned about.

Four steps.

Five steps.

And then nothing.

She only had a split second to realize that she was falling before her world went utterly black. Now, she was staring up not at the wooden ceiling of the well house, but at a clear blue sky. No ladder was in sight. No Buyo either. Just mud, dirt, soggy earth, and vines that crept all the way up to the opening of the well at the top.

_What in the world in going on?_

When pinching herself didn't serve to change her surroundings into something more recognizable, she began to panic.

_Okay, Kagome…relax and think…the first thing you need to do is get yourself out of here…_

Her first attempt to grab onto the vines was thwarted by the thick and long sleeves of the garments she wore, and she wondered why such things were invented if they were so cumbersome. She sighed and tried for the vines again. Several raw hands and bruised coccyx bones later, she grabbed onto the rim of the well, using all of her strength to pull herself out. When she felt dewy grass instead of wood tickling her skin, she knew that she _had_ to be dreaming. Pushing herself up and into a standing position, she dusted herself off and looked around. Immediately, she noticed the difference. Although the shrine was located several miles from the main city, the air had never smelled so pure and clean. Pollution had caught up with even the more rural parts of her home town. Here, however, she saw no sign of concrete roads, sidewalks, or even mailboxes. In fact, neither the well house nor the shrine were anywhere to be seen. A phrase from a book she had read in English class once immediately popped into her mind.

_Toto…I don't think that we're in Kansas any more…_

The tale had been about a girl who had been swept away by a storm, only to land in a very strange and alien world. She almost felt like that heroine now. Only there was no dog here to comfort her in the sudden loneliness and fear she felt. Not even her poor cat was anywhere in sight. Before she consciously knew what she was doing, her feet were moving and she was taking a dirt path to unknown places.

_I'll just look around a bit…what harm can it do?_

To her amazement, she couldn't recognize any of the trees or hills around her at all. The foliage and wilderness grew unrestrained – wild. Her tatami sandals made almost no sound as she walked through grass that was almost up to her knees in length. The sun shone brilliantly. It was blissfully warm. Suddenly finding that she enjoyed her surrounding – crazy dream or not – she told herself that she should explore a little more before she went back to where she came from. In a few moments, her feet brought her to a large clearing, and she stood in the shadows for a moment, leaning against a tree as she marveled at the simple beauty of it. If only she could have had her easel and canvas now, she would have loved to sit here and paint the scenery.

And then she heard it. A sound. Someone was humming.

Fingers clutching tighter at the bark of the tree, she tensed and looked around cautiously. At last, she found the source. A woman dressed in clothes that were identical to Kagome's walked out from behind several trees not too far from Kagome stood. She couldn't quite make out her face, but she could see that her hair was incredibly long, tied back by a white ribbon. Her movements were graceful, and Kagome almost envied her poise as she seemed to float above the ground. The woman stopped, suddenly, and Kagome feared that she had seen her. But she made no motion to turn around, and the girl relaxed, wondering if she should speak to her.

_Excuse me, would you mind telling me where I am?_

The thought made her smile a bit. The woman would probably think she had lost her mind. She _did_ wonder about who she was, though. Her clothing suggested that she was either a miko, or belonged to a family that owned a temple. Her train of thought was interrupted when she saw a flash of red tear out from behind another clump of trees and head straight for the woman. She wanted to scream out a warning, but before she could, something frightening happened. The blur of red flew by the miko, and Kagome's eyes widened in horror when she saw blood flying thick through the air. The pleasant dream had suddenly turned into a rather vivid nightmare. Kagome's eyes widened and she covered her mouth with a trembling hand when the woman fell heavily to the ground. The white top of her outfit bled a dark red. The blur stopped, and became a boy. Or was it a man? He had white hair, sharp claws, and from what she could see from the large distance between them, white ears on top of his head. A wave of nausea came over her when she saw him kicking the woman in the side. She could barely make out what they were saying, but she could tell that the creature's tone was far from friendly. Then she saw him pause deliberately and look around. Her heart jumped into her throat when he seemed to look directly at her. She didn't dare move. A few moments passed, and he looked away. Then disappeared. For a long time, the woman didn't move, and when she did her movements were sluggish. Kagome had never wanted to help anyone more than she wanted to help this woman now. It was as though she could feel her pain.

She heard something tear a second before a flash of wild agony bit into her shoulder. Biting her lip to keep from screaming out, she looked sideways and found that a dark, ruby, spot of red ink was spreading down her arm and to her neck. But it wasn't ink, she thought through the feverish haze of suffering. It was blood. And from the looks of things, it was three large gashes that were responsible. When she looked up to find the woman in the hopes of calling out for help, she was gone. It was only through pure strength of will that she stumbled away from that clearing and out of the cover of trees. Dizziness and disorientation made her vision blur and double, and she wondered how much longer she would last.

_I have to make it to the well_… That was the only thought that drove her forward.

Although she had no idea of where she was going, she had a feeling that as long as she went forward, she would find her way. After all, this entire reality just couldn't be _real_. Who ever heard of men moving with the speed of light, or men with demon claws and white hair, and of wounds appearing out of nowhere? Such things were only in fairy tales, in crazy mutterings of people like her grandfather. But as the pain worsened, and as she felt her knees about to give way, the pain made her seriously doubt her sanity. When she could focus again on what was going on around her, she heard screams and panicked shouting from in front of her. People were running around, and from some corner of her deteriorating awareness, she registered that they were all wearing strange clothes. Kimonos, yukatas, hakama pants, top knots. Cows were grazing in front of straw huts, horses stomped restlessly against the burden of the carts behind them. None of it made any sense. She took a few more steps before she saw a crowd of people gathered next to a larger building that resembled a small temple. The woman was there, kneeling on the ground, holding her shoulder in much the same way that Kagome was holding her own.

"Kikyo-sama! Kikyo-sama!" A woman was screaming. Finding her strength gone and simply too foggy-headed to consider that she bore the same wound as the woman did, Kagome slid to her knees, hiding behind a large tree. A little girl was crying, sobbing, and shouting "sister" in front of the woman. The miko muttered something before falling sideways. There could be no doubts. Even if the little child hadn't screamed so loudly, Kagome would have still known that she was dead. It was as if she could feel her leave this world with her very being. Her eyes began to wander and accidentally landed on a spot of red a little ways away from where the dead woman was.

_Kami-sama…_

There was that creature. The one that had attacked the woman earlier. He looked to be asleep, yet the arrow that pinned him to the tree through his heart said otherwise. At least, Kagome thought vaguely, justice had been done. She couldn't suppress the moan that left her lips as she wavered for a moment on her knees then fell forward to the ground. Her muscles weren't responding any longer.

_It's alright…_she tried to tell herself…_now I can wake up…_

She was losing her sight, but she heard a voice. A man's.

"The Shikon! It's gone! Gone!"

"What do you mean?" Shouted another voice.

"It disappeared!"

A bright, pink light filled her vision. Something hot burned her side viciously. Screaming. A horrible pain. And then nothing…

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**Shall be continued…  
Please, please review if you like it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** I just wanted to mention some things before I continued. Although I don't really consider this story alternate universe, a lot of things will, naturally, be much different than the series chronologically and plot wise. I don't want this to be just a re-telling from a slightly different angle; I want this to really different and unique. So all of those that have seen things re-done, please give my story a chance before prancing off : ) I would really appreciate your support ^_^.

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**To Coexist  
Chapter 2 – To Explain**

What defined humanity?

Where was the line that separated fiction from reality?

For centuries, thousands had sought it – laying down their lives, sacrificing families, unions, and even themselves in order to find the answer to that mystery.

What made a human?

Was it the body's mortality? Was it the soul that resided within? Was it greed, selfishness, lust for power, gluttony, compassion, sympathy, mercy, or the ability to love? Was it about the skin that made it so prone to damage? Did the definition of being human reside in the weakness of the body to diseases, illnesses, injuries, and emotional trauma? Or was it all about anatomy? About having five fingers on each hand, two eyes, one head, and a brain that could destroy as it could create? Wherever the true definition lay, Kagome was very sure that the creature standing before her now did not fit into it at all…

The wind rustling through the trees whispered it to her. The light that filtered through thick branches and settled like fairy dust upon his face and shoulders showed it to her. The heat that radiated from him like a furnace branded it into her memory, and the eyes that scrutinized her every feature seemed to condemn her for even daring to hypothesize that something so insulting could be true. He was a vision of terror, of beauty, of a merciless lack of kindness, and an almost saddening loneliness. She knew that he was a man, but somehow thinking him as merely a _man_ seemed to ridicule and negate all the effort nature must have put into the creation of such a being as he. He was God and Lucifer; Apollo and Poseidon. He _looked_ mortal, yet was not. There were no signs of aging on his skin, although his eyes shone with the frightening intellect of someone who had been alive for _several_ lifetimes. His hair – glaring white and wispy silver – was too thick to belong to any mortal, and the claws on his hands were too long and perfect to belong to anything except a vicious carnivore. She couldn't stop herself from voicing the words that mirrored her utter disbelief at seeing such a creature standing over her now, yet she regretted saying them as soon as they escaped her mouth.

"You're…a demon…"

He didn't move, didn't react to her in any way. In fact, nothing save for the sizzling blade that rested poised against her throat served to show any sort of agitation. Silence would have envied him. Such a being _had_ to have a voice as frightening and intimidating as he was. But when he spoke, his baritone seemed to rumble through her lungs as if it had been _her_ voice and not his that had filled the empty gap between them.

"Stand."

Yes, she thought. Silence would have envied him, but Sound would have strangled Silence to possess him. She did as he bid without a second thought, almost certain that she would have done so even if his blade hadn't been so close to slitting her throat. She had awakened to the sight of him towering above her, his mere presence powerful enough to awaken her from whatever state of slumber she had fallen into. As soon as she was on her feet, a pressing problem became very much apparent. Her shoulder muscles gave a savage jerk as the wound she vaguely remembered receiving seemed to tear open like a baked potato under a steak knife. It was a mixture of crusted blood, dirt, pine needles, and matted hair that had mostly served to seal up the injury, but apparently, her movements had been too swift. There was one thing she just couldn't understand.

_I was supposed to wake up…_

So why, then, did she feel that with every breath she took and with every second that passed she slipped farther and farther into this nightmarish fantasy? He moved. Spoke again.

"You will explain, woman."

Apparently, she thought with a slight pang of dizziness, he was a man who was used to giving orders, however vague they may be. And the order _was_ vague – impossibly so. There were thousands of things she could have tried explaining to him – "tried", of course, being the key word. If he wanted to know where she was from, who she was, or what she was doing here, then she would be at a loss.

_Then again_, she told herself as she watched his stoic face, _he doesn't seem like the type to care about something like that…_

Once again, she spoke without thinking.

"Explain what?"

The change in him was immediate. This time, she _felt_ the quiet yet deadly rage that consumed his aura. As the blade edged painfully into her neck, she wondered if he would kill her right then and there, and suddenly found that she wouldn't mind. Perhaps this time, she would succeed in waking up from this insanity. A hesitation. An almost unrecognizable pause. Only in this position could she fully appreciate anything she felt from someone so seemingly indifferent. Every breath he took, every movement that would have otherwise gone unnoticed was visible and tangible to her. Twin stones of citrine narrowed. It was almost as if he sensed the crucial moment in which she lost her fear of death. This new discovery seemed to displease him. She waited for the blade to finish her but instead of inflicting pain, it drew back.

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The human female had eyes that reminded him of a doe's. Large, wide, fearful. He had to wonder if she was not hanyou, though, possessing the vivid eye color that she did. Those enormous orbs were like lakes, like cups filled with the bluest water. From his personal experience, he had never met a human that had eyes like hers, and found himself trying to remember if he had ever really bothered with looking at eye color before killing someone. Setting such sentimental thoughts aside, he recalled how he'd found her, lying lifelessly on the forest floor, her shoulder bleeding. It looked as though something demonic had tried to strike her down – the claw marks on her skin were enough to attest to that. She had been terrified when she had spotted him over her – a reaction that he was now used to. There was no creature in existence that should be foolish enough to feel no fear upon the sight of him.

Yet.

The moment she stopped giving off the scent of fear was reflected in her stance. She even seemed to lean against the edge of his blade, Tokijin, of her own free will. Did she honestly _want_ to die? The softening of her features, the almost imperceptible dip of her lips into a half-smile, told him that that was exactly what she was after. He, The Great Sesshoumaru Taisho of the Western Lands, did no favors for anyone. He was a ruler, a sovereign, a Taiyoukai meant to govern others that were beneath him in both status and power. With his own claws he had taken the reigns of these wild lands into his hands after his father's death and had carved an image of an untouchable potentate, governed by no laws other than his own. All creatures in his domain who were sensible had learned to bow down to him without question, for going against him in the slightest meant a sure death.

Yet.

Now.

Almost impaled on his blade was a weak, human, woman – miko by appearance – who did no such thing. She did not bow to him, did not fear him, and was patiently _waiting_ for him to end her life. Was she simply being stubborn and refusing to submit? He hadn't necessarily demanded that she do any such thing. He had simply asked her to explain herself, and to explain the reason why an explosion from this part of the forest had purified a large number of youkai in the surrounding area. Surely this request did not serve to make her feel that she had to give her life to keep her silence.

_Unless…_he thought dangerously…_there is more to this situation than is readily apparent…_

When he moved back slightly to give her more room to breathe, she had the gall to look disappointed. For the first time since he'd seen her, he took the time to truly examine her. Hair like the depths of the blackest tar, eyes as deep as the most fathomless river, and lips that were too large yet full and delicately shaped – she was the embodiment of the word "unordinary". Though she wore traditional miko garb, he sensed no edges of threat or malice in her aura. Purity. That was the word that came to him and immediately angered him to no end. They stood in silence for eternity, each examining the other, and each unsure of what to say. He almost felt that she wasn't of this world. Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, he decided to repeat his previous order to her.

"Explain."

She dared to arch a delicate eyebrow and look at him without a trace of understanding. He thought of threatening her but suddenly remembered that she would welcome death and felt the unfamiliar feeling of not quite knowing what to do. Stealing a glance at skin that looked as fragile as egg shells, he remembered that there were things worse than death. Throwing his momentary uncertainty aside, he decided that carving the answers out of her would be more enjoyable than simply killing her where she stood. She deserved a much harsher punishment than a slit throat for making him repeat himself. If it was possible, her eyes grew even larger as he stepped forward, reached out his hand and grasped her throat none too gently. She still didn't move, reminding him of a petrified rabbit whose body refused to move from the depth of the fear that it felt. At last, the terror was back in her strangely clean scent. This woman, he thought, was ordinary after all. At last she made as if to speak, and he allowed her the opportunity, saving her pain for later.

"Are you really going to kill me?"

She seemed to honestly wonder about that, and he found his inner self smiling a twisted smile.

"Slowly and painfully," he replied. Apparently, _that_ finally broke whatever trance she had been in, for she began to struggle in earnest. Not expecting this sudden development, he released her, wanting to see what she would do. She ran. He had her pinned to the ground, his knee pressing into her spine forcefully, in less time than it took for her to make one step. Noting the wounds on her shoulder once again, he dug his claws into her raw flesh and released several drops of his deadly poison. No pleasure did he receive when she refused to scream, simply letting out a strangled moan of agony as he continued his torture.

"Let me go!"

"Not before you explain."

"What the hell do you want me to explain?" she asked through gritted teeth, her voice hoarse. He found her defiance even now to be displeasing and more aggravating than it should have been and released more acid into her skin. She _did_ scream this time. Rather loudly. Her voice echoed through his diaphragm, an unpleasant sensation that made him feel as though his very lungs tensed up.

"The explosion," he continued calmly. She resumed her struggling anew, arching her back at an impossible angle to try and avoid what he was doing to her. He stopped the flow of poison but dug his claws deep into the gashes, feeling muscle giving easily. Head shaking from side to side in obvious suffering, her thrashing increased until he had trouble holding her down with just his knees. His claws retracted a bit, her display of torment touching a part of him that he hadn't known existed. Using his naturally superior strength to flip her onto her back, he used one hand to pin her wrists above her head while the other settled tightly on her throat. He used one leg to hold both of hers down, and noted just how small she was. It was as though he was holding down a child, and not a woman. Moisture had gathered in her eyes, he noticed – a human body's natural reaction to severe pain. Once again, he gleaned no pleasure from her suffering. Angry with himself for starting to feel any sort of mercy towards this human, he dug his claws into her wrists this time. She cried out and arched violently even though he knew her struggles would get her absolutely nowhere.

"Let me go…let me go…please…" she ground out, and to his surprise found that she wasn't crying. "I don't know how I got here…it was supposed to be a dream…just a dream…" A dream? Was she delirious from the poison, or was she simply demented?

"You are saying you were not responsible for the explosion," he offered.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about!" He didn't like the tone she was using and told her so by taking his free hand and burying his claws into her side. Her scream pierced his hearing almost painfully. He should have known not to underestimate her. Although he had thought he'd sensed that her spiritual power was weak, he should have known that it grew stronger with emotions. Apparently, her current emotion was enough to set something off, for a blinding light filled his vision a split second before enveloping him completely. His right shoulder began to throb, then his abdomen, and finally his forearms. Thoughts began to drift – would this slip of a woman have enough power to actually hurt him?

_Ridiculous!_ his pride shouted. Yet the pain that pricked at his skin told him otherwise. Just when he began to suspect that his pride might be mistaken this once, the light faded away as quickly as it came and he opened his eyes to find the woman beneath him once more. The discomfort of his body increased tremendously, and although he smelled none of his own blood, he smelled plenty of hers. Strange, for he hadn't really taken much notice prior to this moment. And then he saw it – something so unexpected and unbelievable that he would have thought it impossible had he not been within a hair's breadth of what he was looking at.

The woman – the pathetic, filthy, human, creature – bore the mark of the moon upon her forehead.

There was no mistaking it; it was identical to his own.

Instincts told him to kill her now, that she was casting some sort of spell upon him, and that he had to hurry and terminate her life before the situation became more complicated. But it was too late, he realized, for when his claws sought to tear into her flesh, he felt the pain of it inflicted in the same spot upon his own skin. There was no blood – just a raw pain. Her eyes were filled with so many things at once that he could hardly read if what she had done had been intentional or not. Confusion, horror, uncertainty, and bewilderment – all were written there upon her mortal face. Then –

"What have you done, woman?"

If he expected some sort of explanation from her, he was sorely disappointed. Whatever words she might have shared appeared to be lost within her.

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**To be continued…  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**To Coexist  
Chapter 3 - Answers**

Jakken – retainer and faithful servant to the Great Lord Sesshoumaru – always sensed instinctively the times when it was best to keep a certain distance from his master. Perhaps it was a fear for his own life that gave him such hints, or perhaps it was the knowledge that he would be in the way that allowed him to know and feel when such situations arose – whichever forces ruled his actions, he began to doubt them now. Sesshoumaru had disappeared into the thick foliage nearly an hour ago; the retainer had not followed. He started to regret not doing so only a moment before he felt an explosive force wash over his entire body, his youkai instincts immediately recognizing the feeling. Miko power – raw, pure, and horrible spiritual power. After getting over his initial fear for his own safety, a pressing terror welled up inside his chest.

"Master Sesshoumaru!" He squeaked out in his croaking voice. Small, short, hands were thrown up in the air in a gesture of worry and helplessness. Breaths coming in short pants, the toad tripped over imaginary obstacles in the road several times before he was able to start running in the general direction of where he sensed his master's powerful aura. Webbed feet padding over fallen leaves, pine cones, and wet grass, he ran until he was out of breath, his need to find his master becoming an obsession. Of course, he knew that there was very little chance of his master getting into any situation he couldn't handle, but he could do little to ease his worry. Cursing the forest several times over, he remembered how they had come to be here in the first place.

_Seeing but not Seen,  
Protected yet unknown to its Protector…_

With only that single clue, a journey had begun that had been more demanding than any that Jakken had ever been on. The search for the Almighty InuTaisho's fang Tetsusaiga had indeed been long and arduous. Each time, his Staff of Heads would lead them somewhere, and each time, that somewhere would turn out to be the wrong location. Although his master would never reveal it, Jakken could keenly feel his disappointment and lamented that he should suffer so in order to claim something that was his birthright. Although he could never think of Sesshoumaru's great father in a bad light, he couldn't help but feel annoyed that he had neglected his own son by giving him a sword that could cut nothing.

The war with the Neko Tribe had raged on relentlessly since the passing of the Great Dog Demon. The Rebels had burned down forests, cut through villages, and damaged fields full of crops on their rampage through the Western Territories. Memories of the last battle still left a bitter taste in the toad's mouth. Cowards. All of them. Many lives had been sacrificed to put an end to the Neko Tribe's rebellion – allies had been called upon, pride had been sacrificed – but in the end, the Rebels had run from battle with their tails between their legs. The simple-minded forest creatures and daimyo that had assisted in the fight had dubbed the sudden cessation of conflict as victory, but both Sesshoumaru and his retainer knew better. The retreat left the Rebels with an opportunity to attack again and wreak further havoc upon the fragile order in the Taiyoukai's domain; there would be no end until they were _entirely_ wiped out.

_I need the other fang – Tetsusaiga…_

And with those words, the search for the powerful sword had started. Jakken had lost count of how many demons they had interrogated, how many miles they had walked, and how many times he had doubted that they would ever find the sword. It appeared that even in death the InuTaisho refused to relinquish his treasure. Yet giving up hadn't been an option. Although he had nearly paid for it with his very life, Jakken had finally suggested that they seek out Inuyasha – the half-breed son of InuTaisho – for there was a large chance that he might know where the blade resided. The Taiyoukai hadn't explicitly agreed, but Jakken knew that that was precisely what had brought them to this large, unnamed forest on the very border of the Southern and Western Territories – the place his half-brother had been rumored to reside. In fact, Sesshoumaru himself has sensed Inuyasha's aura coming from this area, as weak as it was.

Jakken had been slightly dozing off, buried comfortably in his master's youki cloud when the explosion almost knocked him clear from his perch. A wave of pure energy had spread over the land like a ripple on the surface of a lake, covering the trees, grass, dirt, and all living things upon it like a blanket. Sesshoumaru himself had almost been hit, for the light had traveled upwards as well. Jakken had no doubt that his master would want to investigate the issue; that was what had separated them. He had been determined to give his master privacy despite his own curiosity, yet now he could hardly resist; his concern was too overwhelming. At last, the toad crested a hill and looked out. The sight that greeted him shocked him so much that he felt his knees begin to shake. At first glance, his master appeared to be alright, but when Jakken squinted and inhaled the breeze that rushed against his skin, he understood that that was not the case.

Blood was everywhere.

It was on his master's clothing, on the ground, soaking the grass, and was smeared the bark of the roots of a nearby tree. But it was not the blood that shocked the toad into a state of petrifaction – it was the woman that he held beneath him. He hardly had to use his senses to feel the magnitude of the energy that swirled around her. Terror for Sesshoumaru nearly drove him forward, yet a greater fear of being killed for interfering cut off his outburst effectively. For now, despite the anxiety that threatened to suffocate him, all he could do was watch.

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Sesshoumaru could not remember any time when he had wanted to kill as much as he did now. During battles, he was known to be a fierce killer who showed no mercy. It was understood among both his enemies and allies that double-crossing the Great Sesshoumaru would end in death – and not just death, but suffering. So why, then, was this creature different? She was staring up at him with the same listless expression and she had when he had first come across her shape in the grass. He despised her – despised her and was shocked to realize that for the first time in many years, he _needed _to kill something with such a ferocity. Even during warfare he remained detached, taking lives without feeling remorse or regret. Lives were numbers – digits on the scoreboard of a game that determined either victory or defeat. Even the waning body that he even now held in his grasp was just another bit of flesh. So why, then, did her life seem more significant than the hundreds he had taken during war? She seemed to sense his hesitation, but did nothing to struggle against his grip on her. Her muscles didn't move, didn't twitch – not on her face nor on her body.

"What just happened?" Head turning slightly, she gasped when her gaze focused on what appeared to be his shoulder. "Oh Kami! You're bleeding!" He was? How hadn't he noticed it before? Had the scent of his own blood been completely drowned out by the smell of hers? The woman's face turned an almost sickly shade of white. "I don't understand…why are you bleeding?" Jakken was here. Sesshoumaru had sensed his presence only a few seconds earlier. That mark. How could it be real? It was utterly, perfectly, and completely identical to his own – the color, the shape, the slightly demonic aura that radiated from it – a flawless mirror image. He felt the urge to strangle her resurface. His right hand was on her arm; he flexed it until the feeling of skin giving way beneath his nails sent a shiver of excitement tingling his elbow. She cried out.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Could he answer that?

At that moment, he wasn't so sure that he could, for the events that continued to unfold before him took more and more unexpected turns. He knew that she felt pain; that was quite evident from her agonized expression. What shocked him was that his own left arm protested against damage that should not have been inflicted. He pressed harder; the pain intensified; she shoved her palms against his chest.

"_Release me!_"

Something washed over him again, a wave similar to the one that she had hurtled at him before. It was full of spiritual power – pure, overwhelming, and this time rather menacing. The energy became a creature in his mind's eye, a demon with cat-like eyes and sharp fangs that cruelly bit into his flesh. Everything – that was what it took to continue holding onto her in order to avoid obeying her command. The light subsided and he gripped her other arm, pulling on her until their faces were so close together that he could feel her breathing. Something watery was glistening at the corners of her eyes, beads of perspiration slowly forming on her temples.

"_Release me!_"

This time, the wave became a tsunami so intense that it seemed to burn every inch of his skin. The agony of holding onto her made his very bones vibrate with a plea – an outcry that he ignored with his remaining resolve. That mark – the damned imitation of his proud heritage– glowed with a piercing purple light as vivid as the monstrous energy that surrounded her. There was a climactic rise in power before everything stopped moving entirely. Her gaze – he couldn't seem to force himself to break it. Pupils dilated, she looked to be staring at him sightlessly, eyes filled with knowledge of centuries, of incantations, of _magic_.

"…I can't see…" Voice barely above a whisper, she trembled beneath his hold. Just what was going on? That such power could be given off by such an obviously untrained priestess was impossible. It was obvious that whatever she was doing was draining her – were women of her station not trained for stamina? She repeated the same statement over and over again until something clicked into place.

_Seeing but not seen…_

So easy – the answer had been so easy. For a moment, he was blinded by the prospect of finally solving the mystery of his father's fang. The possibilities once more trampled all rationale as he imagined just what power he could wield with that sword in his possession. The Neko Tribe could be wiped out with just one swing, the path to further conquest would be wide open. Greed, lust for power, and an all-encompassing need for victory drove him upwards until they were both standing. Not a word was said between them as he grabbed the woman unceremoniously around her waist and surged forward, gathering his youki cloud and flying to the skies.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

The flight was as incredible as it was horrific. As Kagome's eyes strained to make out the details of the trees and landscapes that zoomed past her – beneath her – she felt her stomach protesting against the injustice. Of course, the large arm that held her waist as tightly as a crab's pincer didn't help one bit. She could only recall one time when she had felt this ill – her first and last trip to Funland, an impromptu fair that had stayed in her town for a year before the land was bought out by a clothing manufacturer. Somehow, she hadn't been surprised – the Funland roller coasters had nearly caused her to have a permanent phobia of food altogether.

She must have done something outwardly to show her disgust at the remembrance, for the arm that held her prisoner tightened its grip and jostled her in place. Kagome felt herself falling for a moment, but did not even have time to scream before he caught her again. Obviously, whatever she had done had annoyed him greatly. With the rush of anger and indignation that washed over her chest, she felt the pain and agony in her body returning. Letting out a small, defeated outcry, she slumped forward. If they didn't land soon, she was sure that the demon's pristine white clothing would be covered in this morning's breakfast. Or was it yesterday's? How long had she been in this madhouse? Days tended to go by very quickly in dreams. The chronology of events was slightly blurred in her memories; she wondered if she had truly gone mad. Suddenly, it didn't matter to her at all if he would drop her or not.

"Where are you taking me?"

Silence. Was that his permanent companion? As she painfully craned her neck to look at him, she almost felt silence wrapped around him like a shroud – protective, cautious, threatening. That was when she realized that she could see a faint, blue glow around him. Confused, she blinked to clear her vision. The colors faded. Strange. Before she could think on the matter any further, she nearly bit her tongue when she was jerked violently down. Apparently, they were finally descending. Her stomach chose that moment to roil and growl viciously, demanding that she run to the nearest bush and allow it to expel its contents. His arm was still a problem though. Even as her sandals touched the blessed ground, he did not let go. She stared at that striped appendage with as vile a glare as possible, hoping that it would suddenly gain a will of its own and release her from confinement. Naturally, that shouldn't have worked; she hadn't expected it to. Yet when she found herself flying forward and hitting something solid with her yet uninjured right shoulder, she knew that her depraved hallucinations must have taken a turn for the worst.

"Release him, woman."

Something heavy and hurtful wrapped around her heart. Her chest felt heavy. Goosebumps covered her skin, raising the fine hairs that covered her forearms. Helpless to stop herself, she looked upwards. She would have shouted if her jaw wasn't clenched tightly together, words cut off by the invisible glue that was terror. The world shattered into a multitude of images – claws, fangs, tearing flesh, inhumane cruelty, and finally death. It was the boy – the white-haired monster that had ripped apart the innocent miko from before. Something snakelike shifted in the pit of her gut – something that had lain dormant for a while. Hatred. Betrayal. Heartbreak.

_My enemy…_

Something moved her lips, moved her legs to stand despite her weakness, and moved her hand to touch the boy's face.

_Enemy…_

A breeze rustled the foliage around them. It was a pivotal moment in her life. She felt that whatever she chose to do next would certainly change the course of her fate. Eyes traveled to the arrow buried deeply in the boy's chest, tracing his red robes, his broad shoulders, the strange and furry ears that decorated the top of his head, and finally landing on his peaceful face. Incredible. It was then that something split inside her – hatred was set aside and compassion took its place. She reached for the arrow, an intense heat radiating from her palms and blending with the almost acidic malice that was embedded in the weapon. Her other arm hung limp at her side, no longer responding to her commands.

_Don't…don't!_

That inner hatred moved, writhed, hissed in imaginary agony. She shoved it farther back into the recesses of her mind. As if to spite it, she finally wrapped her fingers around the shaft of the arrow, pulling with everything she had. Kagome felt the arrow move for a split second before it disintegrated in her palm. A blinding light filled her vision, and she quickly shut her eyes to avoid being overwhelmed. Something heavy landed on her. A growl in her ear – deep, threatening, terrifying. When the light and smoke cleared, two glowing eyes bore into her soul.

"Kikyo…"

_Kikyo?_ Who was that? A brief recollection of the villager's screams echoed in her ears. They had shouted that name when the priestess had died. His breath fanned across her face, fangs glistening in the dim light. Those strange and bottomless pupils of his narrowed to fine slits.

_Demon…_ Kagome thought with sheer panic when she sensed something flaring behind her. She had completely forgotten about the strange and violent demon that stood behind her. Suddenly, she felt his presence so strongly that Kagome wondered how in the world she had ever been able to tune it out. His aura was chaotic – fierce, malevolent, and – most disturbingly – quite angry. The being above her unexpectedly stopped growling, his intense stare releasing her and moving to look where she was sure the other demon stood. Something slipped past the being's lips; she assumed it was a name.

"Sesshoumaru…"

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

He felt his half-brother's claws tear through her flesh moments before he heard her weakened and hoarse shout. Some struggling ensued – struggles that his brother, of course, had no trouble stopping. A flash of pain in the back of his head told him that she had been slammed against something sharp only a split second before she gave out a small sound and slumped pathetically against the dirt. The mark on his forehead burned with a savage and chaotic warning; slowly, he began to understand the effects of the spell she had put on him. His half-brother was looking at him expectantly, as if he somehow expected for him to lay claim to the female. Naturally, he said nothing.

"What are you doing here, you bastard? And why is Kikyo with you?"

"Father's sword – the Tetsusaiga. You will relinquish any information that you have on its whereabouts."

A pause. Sesshoumaru didn't miss the look of confusion on his brother's face. The already miniscule supply of patience he harbored towards such looks had already been expended for the day. The knuckles on his right hand cracked.

"And if I don't tell you?"

He had expected defiance. His brother had never been one to back down quietly. Even if the sword meant nothing to him, and even if he himself knew nothing of where the treasure was, he would defy him until the end. The hanyou looked behind him at the woman. Something on his face seemed to soften – was that regret he saw there? Kikyo, he had labeled the woman. An interesting development. Sesshoumaru was not willing to lose such an opportunity. Concentrating on the only demonic part of himself that he could not transform completely, he extended his long mane until it knocked his unsuspecting brother aside and wrapped around the woman. Willing it to pull back, he drew his sword and pressed it to her throat. Though he knew that she was still conscious, she made no sound of protest or otherwise.

_She must be incredibly weak…_ He thought. Angry with the sudden stab of something alien in his gut, he added a thought that would negate whatever thoughts of mercy it may have implied. _At last…_

"Tell me, brother, which part of her should be cut off first?"

He wanted to laugh at the panic in the worthless half-breed's eyes. Reveling in the sudden despair he saw marring the hanyou's features, he allowed a small and twisted smile to stretch his lips.

"She could still live with one hand. Or perhaps one leg."

Still the woman said nothing; didn't even move. He heard something hit the ground and saw that a trail of blood was flowing from her shoulder onto the fur of his mane. The vivid red was soaking the brilliant ivory like ink would have parchment. The image caught so much of his attention that he almost missed his brother's attack. Ridiculously weak and slow as it was, he had plenty of time to dodge it even then, still ruffled that he had nearly endangered his reputation. What would others think if they knew that he had nearly been touched by a half-breed? Cringing inwardly at the thought of touching the claws of such low-born scum, he jumped up onto the highest branch of a nearby tree. Of course, he already had some idea of where his father's sword lay.

_Seeing but unseen…_

With unparalleled grace, he pushed himself off the branch and dove straight for his brother. Almost too easily, he caught him by the throat, pressing harder than he needed to. The girl still hung limp in the grip of his mane; he would keep it that way. Balling up some power into his left hand, he pointed his claws towards Inuyasha's right eye. The mutt was screaming curses and insults, all of which Sesshoumaru ignored completely until they turned into shouts of pain. That was when he allowed himself to fully enjoy what he was doing. The pearl – black as night – emerged from the eye slowly and hesitantly, almost as if it was afraid to leave the protector that was not even aware of its existence.

_So this is where it was…how unjust of you, father, to hide it here…_

A rustling and muffled squawking reached his ears. So, his idiot retainer had finally arrived. Just in time. With a great display of strength, he threw his brother, now useless to him, into a nearby tree, making sure to use enough force to make the pain last.

"Sesshoumaru-sama!" The small creature stumbled over to him and prostrated himself before his feet his limbs trembling. "Forgive this lowly servant! I ran into some trouble on the way here…"

"You are late, Jakken…"

"I beg your forgiveness for this lowly Jakken's stupidity!" Looking down at the shaking, slimy mass of cowardice yet unprecedented loyalty, Sesshoumaru decided to spare his life for the moment. Reaching down, he snatched the Staff of Heads from the toad's limp hands, threw down the pearl, and tapped it with the base. Immediately, there was a bright blue glow that caused a swirling mass of wind to rustle his robes. He watched impassively as the portal to what he desired most opened before him. Without even waiting to hear what his brother had to say about the matter, he walked into the ripple that floated before him, all thoughts fixated on Tetsusaiga.

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**To be continued….**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Hmm…5 reviews. I hope that people like this story. Thank you so much to those who did review. I really appreciate your time and effort. Even if you guys choose not to leave a word or two of feedback, spread the word around if you had fun ^___^.

I was thinking that it would be fun to see some fan art to my story. I may even indulge a bit and do some of my own.

The next update should be up within a day or two. If you have any questions or concerns, please email me at . Thanks!

**To Coexist**

**Chapter 4 – Father's Great Sword**

She watched him closely through the haze that had fallen over her mind. Something in her was screaming for his death while something else pleaded with her to help him. There was hair in her eyes – some strands had even gotten tangled in her lips. She tasted dirt and coppery blood. The two men were screaming insults at each other, their deep voices reverberating around the cavern of giant bones. Skeletons were everywhere – pressed in-between immense ribs, poking out around a structure that resembled a spinal cord, and littering the ground in some sort of sick imitation of a carpet.

"This is our father's tomb…" the boy whispered reverently. He appeared at a loss. Father? What sort of monster had this _father_ been? Another demon, obviously, but much larger than the two beings she was with now. The way that the boy was looking around him – like a lost child seeing home after so much searching – tugged at her chest. Something pulsed in rhythm with her heart beat – was it compassion? Ignoring the boy completely, the man named Sesshoumaru dragged her with him to a golden platform. Something was embedded within; a rusted, dented blade that looked old as time itself. The leather on the hilt was worn and tattered, the gold faded.

"At last, I am here…" Sesshoumaru whispered. The air around him crackled and fizzled with malice. "The lethal fang – Tetsusaiga, known to kill one hundred demons in one stroke, is mine at last." A shiver went down her spine – one borne from sudden dread. She could not imagine a demon such as he possessing something so powerful and dangerous. _Please, Kami-sama, if this is not a dream, do not let this man take that sword! _

"Oi! Sesshoumaru!" She did not even hear the boy moving, but in the next split second, she was jerked violently backwards as Sesshoumaru easily avoided a swipe of vicious claws. "Don't you dare turn your back on me!" He swiped again; Sesshoumaru backhanded him into a wall. The malice in his aura increased incrementally.

"This is our father's grave! Be more respectful!" The booming of his voice echoed magnificently in the chamber. Still dizzy from all the impossible speed of the two men's movements, Kagome barely had time to get her bearings before she was thrown unceremoniously against the golden platform. Sesshoumaru, face burning with elation and black greed, stepped up onto the pedestal and wrapped his hand around the sword's hilt. There was a blinding flash of light; when Kagome opened her eyes, the man was looking at his burning hand indifferently.

"Sesshoumaru-sama! How can this be?" shouted a small, croaking voice from somewhere behind her. She would have craned her neck to see the source, but did not have the strength to budge. Instead, her gaze was morbidly fixed on Sesshoumaru's injured hand. Veins blue with blood were swollen, running through the skin as transparent as rice paper.

"Father was ever cautious; there is a spell on it."

"Sesshoumaru you bastard! Respectful of our father's tomb my ass! You're the one trying to rob it!" Once again, the man dodged a swing that seemed to be slow compared to his speed. The boy landed on the pedestal, not even turning his head to look at her. Not managing to resist his own momentum, he was forced to grab the sword to steady himself.

Nothing. No flash of light. No injured hand. The boy slowly looked at the sword in wonder.

"No! Impossible! Why is the brat immune to the barrier?" That same croaking voice grated on her nerves. Expecting that the boy would manage what the older demon had failed to do, Kagome held her breath; however, all of his attempts were futile. The haze on her vision increased.

_I'm losing too much blood_, she thought vaguely. No longer capable of following the fight and insults that were being thrown around, she tried to crawl into some sort of hiding place to avoid the smothering pressure of their auras. That was when something hit her in the head – hard. A skull landed in front of her face, followed by another and another. That croaking voice was muttering something under his breath and pummeling her with bones. Her stomach heaved in disgust. Desperate to somehow escape it all, she crawled on hands and knees towards the pedestal, feeling her heart beating sluggishly. A blast of wind nearly sent her flying, directly into the sword. She had no choice but to grasp it to avoid a head on collision. In the end, she ended up rolling anyways; what surprised her was that the sword rolled with her.

Everything stopped – the fight, the insults – everything came to an abrupt halt. Before she could understand what had happened, Sesshoumaru's booted feet came into her line of vision. He grabbed her by the front of her shirt – oblivious to the fact that he was choking her – and brought her up to face him. "How is it…" he began in a scathing tone, "that a pathetic piece of human trash could pull the sword from the barrier?"

"Let her go, Sesshoumaru! Kikyo has nothing to do with this!" At that, Kagome bristled. Kikyo, Kikyo – he must have been addled to think that she was that priestess. Couldn't he tell the difference? Sesshoumaru ignored his brother's tirade, choosing to instead lift his claws and rake them across her cheek.

"Answer me, female, or we will finish what we started." Gulping down her fear, she figured that she had nothing to lose.

"I'd rather die than give you this sword…" she managed. "Someone like you would only use it for evil…" He seemed to hesitate, as if processing her words. The boy flew between them and she was dropped once again. Sesshoumaru jumped to the other side of the chamber, his flawless grace and ease of movement making Kagome briefly feel a stab of jealousy.

"Give me the sword, Kikyo. He's not someone you can mess around with." At last, she noticed that his Japanese was very informal and rude. He possessed none of the aristocratic, arrogant aura that Sesshoumaru exuded with ease. Feeling suddenly much more comfortable standing up to him, she growled when he pulled the sword out of her limp fingers.

"I'm not Kikyo!" she bit out. "I don't know why you insist on calling me that, but it's really starting to annoy me." That was it, then. That was all she could manage to say before she felt the tendrils of unconsciousness beckoning her into their clutches. Somehow, she knew that if she fell asleep now, she might never awaken.

"How amusing, little brother. Such anger over so vulgar a being. Why protect them? Why let them go? Why _love_ them? Such foolishness let to our father's demise." Beside her, Kagome could feel the boy growling.

"Shut up, you bastard!" Giving the sword a few experimental swings, the boy smiled. "Now that I have this sword, I'm going to test it out on you!" A wind picked up, powerful and tainted. Skulls went flying; the torrents of power moaned as they tore up the ground.

"A pathetic half-breed using Tetsusaiga?" Sesshoumaru's eyes filled in with blood. "This Sesshoumaru will bear witness to such a mockery of this One's heritage!" Kagome shook in terror when she saw his face transforming into something grotesque with a jaw that opened to his ears and fangs coated with saliva. The boy must have heard the small sound of fear that she made in the back of her throat for he stepped in front of her and took a defensive stance.

"Don't worry, Kikyo; I'll protect you." She couldn't even manage to ball up one scrap of anger. All she could do was finally give into the darkness and hope that she would wake up in her warm bed.

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**To be continued… **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Thank you very much those who reviewed my story! Your words are always so encouraging and help me churn these chapters out much faster. Also, to those that commented on my story illustration, a big thank you as well!

**To Coexist**

**Chapter 5 – And Then There was Him**

Waking up was much more difficult than she had thought it would be. The tendrils of the dream she had experienced made her feel sluggish – almost like she was trapped in thick molasses. Choosing not to get up just yet, she settled on trying to remember what day of the week it was and if she had finished her homework. There was a chemistry test to be taken, a literature report to be turned in. Truthfully, she couldn't recall if she'd prepared. The last thing she remembered was doing some problems from her textbook before her mother had wanted her to clean the well house. Thinking back, she must have fallen asleep there; who had carried her to the bed?

Wiping the remnants of sleep from her eyes, she finally decided that it was time to get up. Big mistake. As she pulled herself up, she nearly fainted from the pain that tore through her shoulder. Suddenly feeling a wash of cold dread, she slowly looked to her left and saw bandages – thick and bloodied – wrapped around the obvious injury. Had it been real? Had her dream not been a dream at all? _No! – _her mind screamed. _I just fell; I must have fallen into the well and someone found me. That's how I hurt my arm._ Relief momentarily served to slow her harsh breathing. _Yes…someone must have found me and taken me to the hospital…_

"Blessed Heaven! Kaede-chan, she's awake!" The relieved smile that had crossed Kagome's face only a moment ago seemed to be frozen on her face, even when she saw an old woman in miko garb rushing towards her. Her mind still hadn't caught up – there was too much. The smell of horses, goat droppings, straw, and burned wood assaulted her senses; how could she have missed that earlier? Her fingers were tangled in rough, scratchy wool; how could she have thought it was soft? The old woman's clothes were worn – had she washed them by hand? Along a grater like her mother had shown her? The red was faded in the hakama pants; the strings tying the sleeves of the white shirt together were shredded and ragged. There were torn spots that showed evidence of tireless mending. How could she have ended up here? How could fate have ever thought that she belonged in such a foreign place?

The old woman was saying something in a strained voice, her face wrinkled and weathered. Kagome wondered how old she was. From her appearance, she thought that at least sixty years must have passed since her birth. Had she been living such a life all this time? Mending clothes, moving water, taking care of dirty farm animals, taking strangers into her home? In a moment of sheer panic, Kagome wondered if this was how she would finish her days. _What if I can't find a way to get home? _

"You musn't move yet Miko-sama!" The woman's voice finally succeeded in breaking through Kagome's stupor. It was then that she realized that she was standing at the single doorway to the hut. Strange – she had no recollection of moving. Something slipped around her shoulders; when had she started shivering? Dimly, she registered that the covering was very warm and pleasant. Urging her to lie back down, the woman tried tugging at Kagome's sleeve to get her to move back towards the bed. She had no intention of lying back down. Now that she finally understood the magnitude of her situation, she needed to find a way out, injuries be damned.

"Onee-sama!" called a childish voice from somewhere outside. There was the pattering of footsteps before a child rushed into the hut – crooked pigtails flying – until she crash landed right into Kagome's arms. She steadied her more as an afterthought than a gesture of sympathy, but the girl must have taken it to mean just that. The stick – laden with small fish – that the girl had been holding dropped to the ground. Taking one look at the adoring gaze sent her way pinched an already irritated nerve. She didn't want anyone to like her here; she wanted to go home.

"You'll have to forgive her, Miko-sama. Kaede's sister passed away recently and you bear a great resemblance to her." That same snake-like dread slithered through her heart. The drama started with a small sniffle, but pretty soon developed into a full-blown hurricane. Kaede clung to her clothes, her little fists balled so tight that her knuckles were white. Eventually, the child's tears turned into a shapeless buzzing in her ears. She wanted to get out of here; she wanted to go home; hell, she would even have settled for taking her chemistry test right then. A restlessness suddenly settled over her heart, heavy as a rock. There was something bothering her; if was one of those feelings she got when she forgot something important but couldn't recall what it was. Feeling a headache coming on, she struggled to remember just how she'd gotten here.

"There was a man," she mumbled in a faint voice, stroking the child's hair absentmindedly. She hadn't meant to phrase it as a question, but the old woman took it as such.

"When we found you, we almost thought you were gone. You were lying on top of a horrible demon. We knew that the battle between you must have been great. In the end, you felled him. The rest of the villagers are in awe of your great powers, Miko-sama." Then she kneeled on her knees, failing to notice the awe-struck Kagome, who was still holding a sniffling child. The woman's face raised up, the aged, brown eyes seeming to bore into her soul. There was no doubt about it. This was a woman of honor.

"Thank you, Miko-sama. You have rid us of yet another demon. The village should finally find peace now that one as great as you is here to protect us." A searing pain exploded in her skull. Shoving the girl aside, she groaned and brought a hand to her forehead, feeling a bandage there as well. The desire to run somewhere far away from her currently location resurfaced and nearly suffocated her reason.

"You said there was a demon…" she bit out through the pain. Adrenaline was blasting through her raw nerves, begging her to run – _run –_ outside and find that evil creature that the old woman had spoken of with such a thick fear. She remembered all too well the feeling of his claws reaching through skin and muscle to tear into bone. But that wasn't enough to stop her body from slowly walking outside, wasting no time in listening to the woman's pleading.

"Miko-sama! You must rest!" Her voice echoed to her across a courtyard. There was a small well in front of her; she deduced that it must have symbolized the center of the village. Little straw huts were set up in random patterns all around. Slowly, people were emerging, some rubbing sleep from their eyes, some curious, and others fearful. Kagome felt her irritation rising. _Why me? Why does everything always happen to me? _Swaying dizzily on her feet, she continued her slow, determined walk to Kami-knew-where. A goat looked up at her as she passed by, chewing on a mouthful of hay. It continued to stare for so long that Kagome almost wanted to scream – _what are you staring at_? That's when she knew that she must have surely lost her sanity.

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As Kagome stepped farther and farther away from the village, she began to wonder just how common demons were around this place. The old woman had mentioned the village constantly getting attacked; did this mean that demons roamed around wild and unchecked? The casualties had to be high enough to raise the hairs on the back of her history teacher's neck. Yamada-sensei had always insisted that demons were just creatures made up to explain various phenomenons. She remembered researching farther into the subject; there were demons "responsible" for torrents of ice, tsunamis, large scale fires, and even earthquakes. Recalling the woman from the village, Kagome wasn't surprised. If the majority of the population here was as loony as she was, surely demons were blamed for almost everything.

_But there are demons…_her rationale insisted. _You saw them yourself._ Yes, she had, and she desperately wished she hadn't. Still, she walked, shivering with every breeze, jumping at every shadow. _Do I even know where I'm going? _Her feet never stopped, though, even when she seriously considered that she might have lost her way. There was something quite odd about the pain in her forehead, as if the burning was urging her in certain directions. Knee-length grass tickled her sandaled feet; the air was warm and humid. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, creating little spots of light wherever it touched. Peaceful – so peaceful. Kagome allowed her feet to lead her, not even caring about her surroundings. Through the rare breaks in the trees, she saw the sky; puffy thunderclouds periodically wrapped around the sun, cutting off its warmth. Suddenly finding that she was exhausted, Kagome fell to her knees. And there…

…was Him.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

**A/N: **I realize that this chapter is a little short. I finished it there because it makes sense to end the chapter with that last statement. There will be another chapter coming out a **little later today**, so be on the look out! ^_^


	6. Chapter 6

Just in case the mods didn't see the disclaimer I put up in the beginning…

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or any associated characters. Obviously, I am not profiting for writing these humble stories :P. Thank you. ^____^**

At last, here is the next chapter. I wanted to post it yesterday but decided to give myself a few more days. Then I saw some new reviews and was so excited that I finished it a lot earlier! I hope you guys enjoy this installment. Please review and have fun! ^___^

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**To Coexist**

**Chapter 6 – Let Me **

His sleep was long and slow. The darkness all around was not a dream. In fact, he wasn't certain if youkai were capable of such frivolity. Certainly, he – the Great Sesshoumaru – had never found the need to indulge in fantasy. Instead, the darkness provided a period in which he could hear the voices of his predecessors, locked away deep within his instincts. The offspring could always feel it when their father died. His own sire's demonic voice had joined with him when his flame had gone out. At times, Sesshoumaru could almost say that he felt overwhelmed – almost. The Great Sesshoumaru was never overwhelmed by anything.

When his father's growling floated up to him from the darkness, he recalled the reason he avoided sleep where he could manage it. Always when he came here, the memories of InuTaisho haunted him – specters of regret and unfinished business. Over time, he had learned to accept his father's demise. The only thing he could not seem to release was the boiling anger of the manner in which a being as powerful as his father met his end.

'_Father…'_

'_My son…' _The growling echoed within the chambers of his soul. There was a very small part of him that ached when he heard that voice. He had calculated, once, that the probability of that unwelcome ache increasing every time this occurred was too high. Precisely for that reason, he was desperate to avoid the risk of such confrontations.

'_Do not fail me, Sesshoumaru…'_

'_Failure has always been an incomprehensible notion to me…'_

There was a dry mix of sound – laughter blended with growling. Frustration bloomed in his lungs, real and thick.

'_I see you are still easily angered…' _

He chose not to answer such a ridiculous implication. Instead, he pushed the voice away, willing himself back into the waking world.

'_Do not fail, my son…'_

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

When he regained his awareness, he thought he saw the sky. Shadows moved across it; clouds of impossible softness. There was a brief moment in which he wanted to fly there – to gather up his strength and take off into that infinite paradise. A depth was there that promised eternity – an eternity of freedom and a tranquility that would soothe his soul. Still tangled in the hampering clutches of his father's words, he allowed himself this moment of indulgence. After all, he was not one to deny himself anything he thought worthy of his desire. So, he continued to look into the profound heavens, wanting to run his fingers through the clouds; no amount of time spent in such a way could be considered a waste. But time, it seemed, was against him. The clouds and sky moved farther away, slipping through his fingers. Unwilling to lose it, he reached out his clawed hand to bring it back…

…and met ice-cold flesh. His illusion shattered, he looked at the face with the enormous, blue eyes without some understanding at first.

"Sesshoumaru?" It was barest of whispers that caressed his ears with the invisible touch of butterfly's wings. Looking from the claws resting on the human's jaw to those unnatural eyes, he frowned. His hand slowly backed away. Pride offended, he closed his eyes, knowing that he was too weakened to reprimand the female for daring to come so close to his person without permission. Instead, he growled a deep, fierce, warning.

"Female, if you do not remove yourself from this One's presence, your blood will soil the ground you sit on."

Kagome was still petrified. What had happened just now? She had somehow found her way to him, only to see that he still lived. She took in the sight his bloodies form slowly, her mind disbelieving. First, his slitted pupils scoured his surroundings; then, those incredible eyes were focused on her, drilling painful holes into her heart, moving past all outer defenses until the gold liquefied into her lungs. Her breath hitched. The movement of his claws went unnoticed until she felt those dangerous points grazing her cheek. She remembered experimentally running the spines of a dried sea urchin against her face once when she was a child. It hadn't hurt, but the feeling was there – that the spikes were very, very sharp. Just like this demon's claws. She shuddered; fear had made her splinter the moment of truce between them. Now he was growling and sounding quite displeased. At last, his attention wavered away from her. Then, an unexpected flash of pity nearly knocked the breath out of her. The spot on her forehead was still burning.

_How? How can I feel sorry for this __**monster**__ when I couldn't even bring myself to comfort that girl in the village? _

She should have been terrified; she should have broken into a run; perhaps she should have even not come here in the first place. But she wasn't thinking of that any more. It was as if the sight of such a mighty being struck down so violently had chased away whatever apprehensions she might have had before. The glowing whiteness of him – his robes, his hair, his skin – did not belong among the dirt. He reminded her of a wounded animal, hissing and spitting to warn others away. Her gaze fell to his left arm. Or what was left of it.

"Kami-sama…" The flesh was so torn up, she could barely recognize the mangled thing as a limb. What had happened after she'd lost consciousness? This couldn't have been the work of that boy, Inuyasha. She had seen for herself that Sesshoumaru was superior in speed and strength. The old woman had said that the villagers had found her collapsed right in this spot. But this was a forest, not the tomb full of naked bones that she last remembered.

"The sword…" she said unexpectedly. She couldn't quite remember the name of it. _Tet-something or other. _Perhaps it was that strange and dangerous weapon that had done this? If that was true, how had she gotten here? Why didn't she remember anything past that boy calling her Kikyo? Shaking her head to clear it, she once again looked at the ravaged skin around his injury.

"Let me help you," she pleaded the obviously angry demon. No matter how horrible this man had been to her, he was alive; Kagome valued life above all else. Before this mess, she was studying to become a doctor, hoping to save lives. Her mother had asked her once, what she would do if she had to operate on a known criminal. The question had resulted in a few very long days of serious consideration. But after everything, she realized that she couldn't ever bring herself to refuse help to anyone, no matter who – or in this case what – they were.

_Besides, he could have killed me if he wanted to. Maybe he's not so bad…_

Throughout her musings, the demon remained silent. Briefly, she considered that he might have fallen asleep. Relived that – at least for the moment – his gaze wasn't fixated on her, she looked around for anything she could use. Looking at her clothing – priestess robes again – she knew that she would never have the strength to tear it to shreds. The material was much more durable than the original clothes she had worn when she fell into the well. But that arm looked dreadful. He was losing so much blood! She reached forward to get a better look and nearly screamed. Before she could let out a sound, the demon had her pinned to the ground with one hand, the gold in his eyes was completely replaced by blood red. She gulped and wondered if she had actually made a very bad mistake. Her grandfather had said that she was too soft; he must have been right.

But the red only prevailed for a second. As fast as it came, it faded away; his head lowered until she couldn't see his face through his bangs. Slowly, Kagome squashed down her fear, hoping that she could succeed in talking some sense into him. From her psychology classes, she remembered that when a person was unstable like this, one had to say things to distract them from their anger. Buying time was the key. If she could just keep his attention on something else long enough, he might cool down enough to be rational again. _Not that I know if he was rational to begin with._

"Please, if you don't do something about that arm, you'll bleed to death." A trembling hand touched a chest that was as immovable as a mountain. Gently, she pushed. "I can't leave you here on your own…the villagers will come looking for me." Wrong thing to say apparently. His hand shook where it was pressed tightly against her neck. Flinching, she went on, hoping that her assumptions about his vanity were correct.

"I know you're strong, so they won't be a threat. I just don't want them getting killed." The growling receded just a bit. "Let me just bandage it. I don't know anything about demons and injuries, but I'm sure even one as powerful as you needs help once in a while."

"This Sesshoumaru requires no assistance from one such a you." His words made her bristle; she valued her life too much right then to just snap back at him, however.

"Look," she opted instead, "At least let me go so I can steer anyone from coming this way."

"I'll tear them apart…" he ground out angrily. Her mood swung from annoyed to downright pissed. Her friends were always quick to point out that her short temper would get the best of her one day. Perhaps today was that day.

"Alright, I've _had it_! If you want to sit under that tree and rot, that's fine by me!" At that, her snarled. Her air supply was shortened considerably. "Release me this instant!" A stab of pain her forehead made her flinch; the air was back. When she dared look again, Sesshoumaru back against the tree, his body angled in a slightly awkward position. What had just happened? A rumbling noise coupled with shouting and hollering drew her to look behind her.

"Hurry! Protect our Priestess!"

"Kill the demon!"

"Death to the monster!"

If the situation hadn't been so dire, Kagome would have stopped to wonder why it was that she always had a knack for calling down trouble. As it was, all she could was watch in horror as at least fifteen people barreled towards them with pitchforks and axes, kicking up dust in their wake.


End file.
